


aux urgences

by vivelarepublique



Series: Daily Drabbles [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble, Enjolras just got in a fight à la Bahorel, Fluff, Gen, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Blood, but nothing too graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 06:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1183233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivelarepublique/pseuds/vivelarepublique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last thing Combeferre wanted to see at 1AM during his ER shift was Enjolras walking through the doors, police officers in tow. But sometimes you don't always get what you want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	aux urgences

**Author's Note:**

> _aux urgences:_ at the emergency room
> 
> Drabble based on [this tumblr post.](http://invisibleinnocence.tumblr.com/post/53794430194)
> 
> Written for [Emily](http://grantairely.tumblr.com) and [Allison](http://masterandcaptain.tumblr.com)-approved.

Combeferre always knew this day would come.

He was on a shift in the emergency room one night and it was a few minutes after 1AM when the automatic doors  _whoosh_  open and in walks Enjolras, flanked by two police officers, wrists handcuffed together, dried and drying blood on the side of his face, under his nose, and across his cheek.

Enjolras did not look at all ashamed or defiant or scared, being brought into the ER at 1AM on a Wednesday morning. Instead, he looked a little sheepish, tentatively glancing around the room as he was brought in until he found Combeferre. He raised one of his hands and gave a little wave, trying to smile as if to say,  _This really isn’t as bad as it looks._

If that was what Enjolras managed to say without words across the fluorescent-lit ER, Combeferre’s unimpressed gaze easily conveyed the message,  _You’re fucking grounded._

The officers and Enjolras strode to the one of the nurses, one officer speaking in a low voice to the her as she gestured them towards Combeferre’s direction.

Enjolras’ face blanched, and not because of the blood loss. Something about Combeferre made the ABC Society’s fearless leader, capable of tearing up cobblestones and screaming revolutionary words until his lungs ached, look and feel like a dejected grade schooler being sent to the principal’s office.

He walked past Combeferre and desperately tried not to make eye contact. He couldn’t help taking a glance over, though, and this glare said,  _I swear to God…_  Enjolras quickly looked away to avoid getting too much of a wordless lecture.

After a few hours of dull questions from nurses, a bit of stinging as his cuts were cleaned (though he didn’t need stitches this time, which was a plus), seemingly endless but oh-too-familiar hospital paperwork, and some banal questions from the police, Enjolras finally got his handcuffs taken off and was begrudgingly told he was free to go.

However, free to go from the police was not the same was free to go from Combeferre.

Enjolras had naively hoped he would be able to sneak out of his friend’s stomping ground unnoticed, but of  _course_ Combeferre had kept tabs on which room he had been brought and of  _course_  he was sitting outside of it, changed in that he was wearing his street clothes but his unimpressed expression was still the same.

“It really looked a lot worse than it was?” Enjolras said, in a feeble attempt to lessen the severity of Combeferre’s gaze. It didn’t work.

“No coffee for a week.”

The punishment may have seemed silly to any hospital staff passing by, but every one of the Amis knew how difficult it was for Enjolras to function without it. Combeferre did not fear Enjolras’ wrath, and the rest of the Amis feared Combeferre’s wrath too much to attempt to help their leader.

“But Combeferre—”

“No ‘but’s,” Combeferre sighed. “I swear, you are a child sometimes. A child with radical political leanings and a penchant for getting in fistfights with authority figures, but a child nonetheless.”

As unimpressed with Enjolras as he was, Combeferre couldn’t hide the affection in his eyes and his relief that Enjolras was okay. And so with a bit of lecture and a lot of love, Combeferre dragged Enjolras home, where he could safely dream sweet, albeit decaffeinated, dreams of revolution.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: while writing this, it quickly dissolved into angst and emotional pain for the author as she desperately messaged Allison about how to make Combeferre and Enjolras happy again. Parts were rewritten to spare the reader pain, but an angsty alternate ending is out there... Waiting...
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [vivelarepublique](http://vivelarepublique.tumblr.com) as well! :)


End file.
